


Done Following Orders

by LadyShadowWalker



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowWalker/pseuds/LadyShadowWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a tumblr prompt: Could u write a fic where X and Y are both in high school and they both go to a party get drunk and end up dancing and making out with each other and they start dating and X sneaks into her room in the middle of the night</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Locked up in Here

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of a two-parter. I’m a little too old now to feel comfortable writing high school, so I modified it just a bit. I shortened their age gap because if Y is underage drinking, I wanted X to be underage drinking, too. I also apologize for my first attempt writing text dialogue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Told from Ophelia's perspective as she meets Malcolm.

Ophelia knew better than to walk home alone at night but it wasn’t that far. Sure, she might be regretting her decision now but at the time, she was irritated with the text she received from her brother, demanding she come home early from Wallace’s party. Every shadow loomed ominously and every noise had her jumping. She carried her pepper spray in one hand and her keys nestled between the fingers of her other hand, prepared to gouge someone’s eye out.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket but she wasn’t going to answer it. She lived in a bad neighborhood and being distracted was an invitation for trouble. Besides, it was probably William wondering why she still wasn’t home. She was eighteen and a legal adult yet when he had told her to come home, she still obeyed.

It was barely midnight and the party had just gotten started. Kelly had brought beer and Wash and Flint had supplied the weed. She passed on the beer, knowing William would smell it on her. The weed was at least keeping her from going into full-blown panic mode right now because she was pretty certain she heard footsteps following behind her. Or maybe it was causing panic mode. She picked up her pace. Just a few more blocks.

The cracking sound of her heel was her only warning before she was sprawled face-first on the ground, her pepper spray flying away from her. The footsteps following behind her came running up to her. She waited until her attacker was above her before rolling over and swinging her fistful of keys with all her momentum, connecting solidly with the man’s right eye and knocking him back. She sat up quickly, scrambling for her pepper spray even as she realized she had twisted her ankle _bad_. She couldn’t run.

“Please don’t hurt me!” The attacker begged.

Her hand stalled over the pepper spray as she turned to get a good look at the man. Her punch had knocked him onto his ass. He had one hand covering his eye with his other hand up in supplication.

She picked up her pepper spray and held it in front of her warily, still suspicious of this stranger. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“I saw you fall and was just trying to help.”

“Why were you following me?”

“I wasn’t. I was on my way home.” He pointed over her shoulder toward a run-down apartment complex. “I’m gonna stand up now, okay?”

She nodded and kept her pepper spray at the ready in case he made any unexpected movements toward her as he stood.

“Can I help you?” He removed the hand covering his eye and held it out to her cautiously.

There was blood on his fingertips. She must have nicked him with her keys. At least now his DNA was dripping everywhere in case he killed her. Her internal warning bells weren’t going off like they would if he wanted to harm her, maybe because he could have easily done so already. He was big, really, really big. He was muscular and tall ~~and handsome~~. Okay, now her warning bells were going off, but for a different reason.

She took a chance and took his hand. He helped her to her ~~feet~~ foot. She wasn’t able to put any weight on her right ankle and her shoe was broken so she held onto him for balance.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

Oh, no! William was waiting impatiently for her. “A couple of blocks that way.” She nodded her head in the direction of her house.

“You’re not going to be able to walk there,” he said, eyeing her already-swelling ankle and her skinned knees.

No, she wasn’t.

“Here.”

Suddenly she was suspended in the air as he swept her legs out from under her, lifting her into his arms. She held herself stiffly, surprised at how easily he had accomplished that feat and a little tingly with an emotion she was desperately trying to ignore. She didn’t even know this man’s name and she was allowing him to carry her home. William was going to kill her. William was going to kill him.

He must have felt her eyes on him and he turned his head, meeting her gaze with a soft smile on his lips. “My name is Malcolm.”

“Malcolm.” Her savior’s name was Malcolm. “I’m Ophelia.”

“Ophelia.” He repeated her name, elongating the syllables and causing her heart to flutter.

* * *

Monday afternoon Study Hall was the most unnecessary class she was forced to take. She had once been a straight A student in Honors and AP classes until her mom died her sophomore year. Between getting shuffled around to different foster homes and high schools and the constant court appearances as William tried to gain custody, she had missed most of the school year. Even with make-up tests and summer school, the public school bureaucracy had ensured she still wouldn’t have enough credits to graduate on-time and so she had been held back a year. That made her senior year a waste of time filled with Study Hall and electives because she had already capped out of the other courses last year when she tried to get them to let her graduate a year “early.”

She scrolled through an article on her phone Harper had sent her about some band she wanted to go see. William would never let her go because it was on a school night, like that even mattered. It’s not like she needed to get a good night’s rest for her big test in Study Hall.

A new text message popped up. _how’s your ankle?_

She almost dropped her phone. Malcolm had texted her again! Saturday night, when they had gotten close to her house, she had asked him to let her hobble the rest of her way home alone so she wouldn’t have to explain his existence to her overprotective brother. They had swapped phone numbers and he had texted her the next day to see how she was doing. Yesterday’s too brief exchange had ended with a happy face from her and silence from him. She thought she had somehow blown it.

Ophelia: _better. i can walk on it today. how’s your eye?_

Malcolm: _swollen shut._

Ophelia: _sorry :(_

Ophelia: _you can always tell people you got it defending my honor_

Malcolm: _lol! something tells me you don’t need any help defending your honor_

She grinned idiotically at that last text. She peeked around the classroom but no one was paying her any attention, all just as involved in their phones as she was. She wanted to see him again, badly.

Ophelia: _wanna meet up for coffee?_

He didn’t reply immediately. She must have taken too long sending that last text and now he was busy with something else. She nibbled on her lower lip, unfamiliar with the nervous anticipation fluttering in her stomach. She pulled back up the article she had been reading. Her eyes scanned the words but her brain wasn’t able to comprehend their meaning.

He still hadn’t replied. She glanced at the time. Five minutes since she sent that last text. She groaned and locked her phone, shoving it into her pocket so she wouldn’t just stare at it, waiting for a text that might not ever come. Her stomach bottomed out at that thought.

Her pocket vibrated ten minutes later as she was leaving Study Hall and she almost squealed out loud as she removed it to see who texted.

Will: _i’ll be home late tonight. see you at 8_

Dammit.

Her phone vibrated again. She rolled her eyes as she checked it, expecting another text from William.

Malcolm: _i’d like that. i’m super busy this week but any time after thursday works_

Ophelia: _how about friday, 3pm at Grounders?_

Malcolm: _it’s a date_

She clutched her phone to her chest and this time she did squeal out loud.

* * *

The barista announced their order was ready and Malcolm picked up the mugs, carrying them over to a vacant table. She had invited him to coffee so she had been expecting to pay but he waved her meager cash away, telling her that it was only because she was faster at asking him out than he was. She was broke so she only protested a little before thanking him profusely.

She sat down across from him and reached for her coffee, trying to focus on acting like a normal person when all she wanted to do was leap across the table and kiss him senseless. She grimaced as she drank too quickly and burned her tongue.

“So, Ophelia.” Every time he said her name, she shivered delightfully inside. “How’d you get a name like that?”

Ophelia smiled before launching into the clean, five-minute version of her life. He smiled and nodded throughout, responding when appropriate. She soon found herself telling him the not-so-clean version, the one not even some of her friends knew, like how her mother overdosed numerous times before finally succeeding and how her brother had given up the possibility of becoming a college professor in order to become a middle school history teacher just so he could raise her.

And he reciprocated, telling her about his own difficult childhood growing up in the foster system, something she barely escaped from. He briefly touched on getting into drugs in high school but was clean and sober now except for an occasional joint or a beer. He was a twenty-year-old artist, going to a graphic design trade school so he could one day quit his day job at the lumber yard.

She was falling in love with him already.

She had initially told him she only had an hour so she could escape in case things went bad (which they definitely did not). Even after two hours, she still didn’t want it to end but William would be home soon and she needed time to prep the house so he would think she had come straight home after school.

Malcolm held the door to the coffee shop open for her as they exited. “My friend is having a party tomorrow night, if you wanna come?”

“Yes,” she said a little too enthusiastically. “Sure, cool.” This time, she tried to sound more casual.

He grinned. “Her name is Annie. I think you might like her.”

“Your foster sister?”

He nodded, smiling at her for remembering. “Can I walk you home?”

“Yes, please.” She took his arm, finally able to touch him even if it was through his jacket.

They passed by a hedge with white flowers blooming and he snapped one off, offering it to her. “For you.”

“Thank you.” She brought the flower to her nose and inhaled, unable to smell anything other than the regular city grime but she pretended it smelled good anyway.

She took his arm again and they continued walking. He was currently chatting about his roommate, Nicky, a pre-med student. She still hadn’t told him she was in high school. She still hadn’t told him that once she graduated, her future career path would be waiting tables to pay for community college.

It was much too quick of a walk and they arrived in front of her house once more. His head tilted closer to hers, a tender smile spreading across his face. He was going to kiss her. He. Was. Going. To. Kiss. Her! Her eyes fell closed, her lips gently parted, expectant.

“Who the hell is this?” William’s shouting jarred her back to the present. He had come home early for once and at the most inopportune time. “Ophelia, get inside, now!” He grabbed her arm, yanking her away from Malcolm.

“William! He’s a friend!”

William ignored her, turning his wrath on Malcolm. “Do you know she’s still in high school, you pervert?”

The color drained from Malcolm’s face as he held up his hands and started backing away.

“I’m eighteen!”

Malcolm stopped in his tracks, glancing between the siblings in confusion. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I’m leaving, okay?” He turned away and pointedly headed across the street and away from her drama-filled life.

“Argh!” She couldn’t even speak through the anger and sadness overwhelming her. She whirled away from William and stormed inside their house. William ruined everything. He had scared off Atom, her last boyfriend, and now he had done the same to Malcolm.

William followed after her, not leaving her alone. “How’d you meet him? Why are you friends with him? Do you even know how old he is? He must be at least thirty!”

She stopped ignoring him and began yelling back. “He’s twenty!”

“For all you know! He’s probably lying to you.”

She shook her head at him. “No.” Malcolm wasn’t a liar. "I don't think you know-."

“You don't think, O! That's the problem.” She turned to get away from William but he snatched hold of her arm, stopping her. “He’s a strange man you know nothing about.”

She tore her arm free as she tried to leave again, this time back out the front door.

He stopped her once more. “Where do you think you’re going?” He pointed her toward her room.

“You can’t keep me locked up in here forever!” She screamed at him as she stomped into her room, slamming the door behind her for good measure.

At least William was leaving her alone now so she could wallow in her misery of losing Malcolm before she ever had a chance to ~~kiss~~ know him. She slid down the door and to the floor, pulling her legs up under her chin as she tried not to cry.

Her phone vibrated and she pulled it out of her pocket.

Malcolm: _wanted to make sure you were okay_

Ophelia: _yeah, just got in a fight with my bro. warned you he was overprotective_

Malcolm: _do you still wanna go to that party?_

She jumped to her feet, that squeal coming back. He was giving her a second chance. Yes! Of course she wanted to go to that party.

Ophelia: _sure. sounds like fun_


	2. Tonight We Celebrate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Told from Malcolm’s perspective as he takes Ophelia on their second date to Annie’s party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is now also going to be a Part 3 because I have no self-control.

Malcolm was nervous. He’d never been nervous about a girl before. Then again, he’d never met a girl quite like Ophelia before. She was due to arrive outside his apartment any minute and they would be on their way to Annie’s party. He ran a hand down his chest, smoothing his shirt out, and made sure his zipper was up. He had brushed and flossed before he left his apartment but he still ducked his head down to check his teeth in the side-mirror of a car.

She appeared from around a corner and his heart started thumping faster in his chest. His cheeks were hurting from how big he was smiling. He tried to relax his face muscles, not wanting to appear too excited. She waved, her eyes shining with delight at seeing him again.

She continued walking toward him, only stopping when she was a breath away, intimately close and forcing him to look down at her. It was still there, that invisible thread that linked their souls together. He hadn’t imagined it.

“Hi,” he said with a smile he wasn’t used to wearing.

“Hi.” She smiled back.

He had recited and practiced different things to say to her but seeing her smile, he forgot the meanings of words. He gestured in the direction of Annie’s flat and they started walking as Malcolm tried to make his brain start functioning again. He was getting too far ahead of himself and falling too fast for this perfect, tiny little thing walking next to him.

She casually slipped her hand in his. He kept his eyes straight ahead even though he still wasn’t able to keep the grin off his face. Her hand was so small yet it fit so snuggly and comfortably into his, it was as if they had been holding hands all their lives and he never wanted to let her go.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you I’m still in high school,” she said, breaking the silence. “I got held back a year when my mom died.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “I dropped out of high school and got my GED.” It grew quiet between them again as Malcolm struggled to come up with something else to say when all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss her. “Nicky said he’d be meeting up with us later.”

“I can’t wait to meet him. Does he have any good stories about you?”

He laughed. “Plenty.”

“Have you known him a long time?”

“All my life. He’s like a brother to me.”

Her face fell into a frown. “Speaking of brothers, I have to be home by one.”

“Okay. Not a problem.” He wasn’t that big a drinker so he never stayed too long at parties if he could help it. “Are you hungry? It’s probably gonna be just snacks at the party so if you want we can grab a bite to eat first.”

She turned her head, smiling shyly at him. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

He had looked up all of the restaurants within walking distance and studied every menu and review. “I was thinking Italian or Mexican.”

“Italian.”

The Italian restaurant was one of those places that didn’t take reservations but was still fancy enough to have a wine list and expensive enough that the waiter automatically assumed they were of drinking age, giving them said wine list. Malcolm winked across the table at Ophelia.

“We’d like to split a bottle of your house Chianti,” he said as he handed the wine list back to the waiter, George, according to his name tag. It’s what Annie ordered whenever they went out: “house” vodka, “house” white, “house” rum. He wasn’t certain what “house” meant besides inexpensive.

George the Waiter nodded. “Can I offer you some appetizers? Calamari to start with, perhaps?”

Malcolm glanced at Ophelia as she shrugged indifferently with the beginnings of a smirk on her face. “Calamari sounds perfect. Thanks.”

“Would you like to hear our specials?” George asked.

Ophelia was now grinning at Malcolm so widely that she looked like she was about to burst into laughter. She ducked her head behind her menu, leaving him alone to finish dealing with the waiter.

“Sure, let’s hear the specials.” He said it more to see what kind of reaction he would get out of Ophelia than because he was actually interested in the specials (which he had already read online).

George began reciting the meals as Ophelia’s menu started bobbing up and down. She was giggling behind it. He nudged his foot forward under the table, searching for hers and tapping against it lightly. She lowered her menu just enough for him to see her sparkling eyes crinkling at the corners in silent laughter.

George finally took his leave and Malcolm was alone with Ophelia again. She lowered her menu, smiling radiantly at him. “So, what do you recommend?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never eaten here before.”

That seemed to please her as she nodded in approval. “What’s the party for?”

“They’re tearing down Annie’s building to put up condos so she and all the neighbors are having one last hurrah.” He pretended to peruse the menu but he had already decided to try their lasagna based on the reviews.

“Yeah, they’ve been buying out the whole neighborhood. William’s worried we might lose the house.”

Malcolm nodded. He and Nicky shared that same worry. It was once a working class neighborhood, close to the jobs that paid their rent. Now, it made the neighborhood ideal for gentrification for those same reasons: close to the businesses where rich people liked to spend their money. The working class was pushed further out from the center of the town, forced to pay higher rent and commute longer hours to work with miniscule cost-of-living increases.

“Did she find a new place to live already?”

“She’s moving in with another one of our friends, Lexa. You might meet her at the party if she doesn’t have to work.”

The waiter returned with their wine bottle and two glasses. He opened the bottle at the table and passed Malcolm the cork. He should have paid better attention to Annie all those times she convinced him into drinking wine with her. He wasn’t too certain what he was supposed to do with it so he nodded in approval. George poured a teeny amount into a glass and passed it to Malcolm. He took a sip and nodded again, which seemed to be the correct motion.

George left them alone again as Malcolm raised his glass to Ophelia. “To second dates.”

She smiled so exquisitely, it snatched his breath away. “And many more.”

* * *

They split the dessert, both a little tipsy from the wine, their spoons dueling playfully over the panna cotta and causing her to giggle and laugh in delight. She was loud and unapologetic, boisterous with a childlike excitement for everyday things and he no longer questioned it; he was already madly in love with her.

The bill was $80 and he left a $20 tip, mostly because he hoped George the Waiter might remember them the next time they returned. And he was certain there was going to be a next time with her; there were going to be plenty of next times with her. He gave a quick shake of his head, trying to clear it of fantasies of him and Ophelia when they were old, wrinkled, and gray coming to eat here on their anniversary. He had never felt this way about anyone before and it was further adding to his nervousness. He couldn’t screw this up.

As they left the restaurant, she took his hand again, smiling boldly up at him, her cheeks flushed from the wine. “Thank you for dinner, Malcolm.”

“You’re welcome.” That longing to kiss her was back. His tongue flickered out, wetting his suddenly dry lips.

“Hey, Malcolm!”

A shout from behind them had him cursing silently as he turned and greeted Nicky. He had hoped to have more time alone with Ophelia before they were surrounded by his friends.

“Nicky, this is Ophelia. Ophelia, Nicky.” Malcolm made the introductions quickly, tampering down his ire at Nicky’s untimely arrival.

“Pleasure to meet you, Nicky.” Ophelia held out her hand. “Malcolm’s told me a little about you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” Nicky winked as he took her hand and turned it, kissing the back of it.

Malcolm shook his head and rolled his eyes as Ophelia and Nicky struck up a friendly conversation about med school while they walked the rest of the way to Annie’s building. She was getting along with his friends. Once again, he tried to keep that rare smile off his face.

They reached Annie’s derelict high-rise, the doors propped open, the hallway inside deserted, the elevator broken. Everyone had moved out over the last few weeks so the building was officially empty. There were pieces of paper taped to the walls with arrows pointing to the stairs where the deep vibrations of music thumped the loudest.

They proceeded up the stairway to the first floor. There was a man at the top of the stairs with a bucket, requesting $10 from everyone so Malcolm threw in $20 for him and Ophelia. The entire level had been stripped of anything of value, from lighting fixtures to doors and hinges and was completely taken over for the tenement party. Someone (probably the former tenants) had taken a sledgehammer to the walls, creating window holes that exposed old pipes and wiring and making new doorways through walls, joining each apartment on the floor into an open space.

The electricity hadn’t been shut off yet so the lighting came from big, yellow-grilled construction lights plugged into old wall outlets that did not look the least bit safe. There were card tables and folding chairs set up and massive ice chests in each room filled with a variety of alcoholic beverages.

“Here, you’re gonna need this.” Someone handed each of them red cups with some unrecognizable pink liquid.

“Turn down the music!” Annie shoved her way through the crowd, shouting over the noise of the party. “Time for a toast!” she yelled as she climbed up onto a chair. “Friends!” She lifted her cup high as several people cheered. “Family.” She saluted in Malcolm’s direction. “And neighbors.” Most of the crowd whooped and hollered back, cheering their last get-together. She waited until the noise died down again before lifting her plastic cup high in the air once more. “Tonight we celebrate!” She tossed her head back and poured the contents of her cup down her throat before throwing the empty, plastic cup in the air and shouting a rousing battle cry to the broken ceiling tiles. “Let’s drink!”

The party-goers erupted in resounding cheers as everyone started downing their drinks. Malcolm smirked at Ophelia over the rim of his cup as he took a sip. He didn’t want to get drunk tonight and he already split a bottle of wine with her at dinner. Ophelia had no such hesitation and downed her whole cup.

“Liquid courage,” she looked behind him to Annie making her way over to them.

“Malcolm,” Annie said with a nod.

Malcolm nodded back. Annie had that discerning look in her eye that made him wary. He had talked to her earlier about bringing Ophelia and was now starting to regret that conversation.

“Hi, I’m Ophelia.” Ophelia smiled as she held her hand out to Annie.

Annie ignored the hand before looking pointedly at Malcolm. He had spent the past week gushing to Annie about Ophelia; Annie knew exactly who she was. Annie looked back toward Ophelia, narrowed one eye, gave a shrug, and walked away.

Ophelia’s smile began to falter.

“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “That means she likes you.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow dubiously.

It was his turn to shrug. “If she didn’t like you, she would make you leave.”

“Comforting,” she said with a grimace.

He laughed as the music restarted and the party got underway once more. “It’s the truth.”

“Wanna dance?” Ophelia asked him, offering him her hand.

She led him to the designated dance area before turning and slipping her arms around his neck. He rested his hands on her hips, wanting to hold her close and feel her body moving against his as they danced to the music. She twirled and spun around, innocent, light, and free like a fragile butterfly spreading its wings for the first time. When he first met her, she scared the hell out of him. She still scared the hell out of him but all that did now was make him want to kiss her.

She used the music as an excuse to step closer and closer until he was able to feel the warmth emanating from her. Her hands slid from around his neck, gliding over his biceps and caressing over his forearms. She took his hands in hers, bringing them from her hips to around her waist and hauling herself flush against him. He sucked in his breath, his body burning wherever hers brushed against it.

The party faded away into background noise until it was just the two of them moving together in their own sacred harmony, their bodies writhing in unison to their matching heartbeats.

“Malcolm?”

“Yeah.”

“I like you a lot.”

He smiled. “I like you a lot, too.”

* * *

Even when he wasn’t dancing with her, she still managed to include him, her eyes searching out his every few moments. Hell, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her for more than a single moment. A slow song started and she wiggled her fingers at him, beckoning him to come join her again. He glanced at his phone, half past midnight. That couldn’t be right; it was too soon. They hadn’t spent enough time together yet.

“Hey,” he said as he took her outstretched hand in his and tugged her close. “It’s 12:30. We should probably get going.”

“Already?” She frowned in disappointment even as they began to rock back and forth in rhythm to the music. “Thanks for watching the time.”

That longing to kiss her was back. His hand rose up, cupping her cheek. No, not here with all these people. He wanted it to be special. She was special; he had known that the moment his eyes met hers over her can of pepper spray. There was a connection he had never felt before, a familiar security, an immediate trust. He found himself doing things he would have never thought of doing before, like sweeping her off her feet and carrying her home or texting her again after discovering firsthand how overprotective her brother was.

Damn. Her brother. He had lost track of time when they started dancing again. They would have to walk fast but they could still make her curfew.

* * *

They arrived at the corner before her house, the same place Malcolm had dropped her off when they first met. She would walk the last bit alone in case her older brother was watching. And like that first time, he would wait and watch until she made it safely inside.

She gazed up at him, her expression soft and inviting, her smile tender and open. All he could think about was kissing her. All night long that was all he had thought about. And now.... _Now_ was the perfect time and perfect place for their first kiss. His hand went up, cradling her face and memorizing it, treasuring this moment for eternity. He lowered his head, their faces so close that her breath breezed over his lips. He moved his mouth that last small distance, pressing his lips gently against hers, his tongue dipping out to taste her for the first time.

She kissed him back, tentatively at first as her tongue rubbed against his lips. He deepened the kiss, his own tongue sweeping into her mouth, enticing her to dance with him once more. She let out a little whimper, her mouth opening further and he lost himself in her sweet receptivity. It was never-ending, their lips inseparable, their tongues tangling together, their hearts entwined.

Her hand rose up to cover his as she ended their first kiss on a sigh of contentment. Her eyes fluttered open as she gazed at him with an honest desire, tempting him to kiss her again. Instead, she turned her lips into his hand and placed a kiss there before she folded his fingers over his palm.

“To hold onto until next time,” she whispered before stepping away from him and hurrying down the street toward her house. She unlocked the front door and turned, knowing he was watching her to make sure she got inside safely. She waved at him before blowing him another kiss and then she was gone.

He smiled as he started walking home, his hand in his pocket, his fingers curled around her kiss. Until next time.


End file.
